Chants

And it’s Aston Villa

And it’s Aston Villa,
Aston Villa FC,
We’re by far the greatest team,
The world has ever seen…

The Bells are ringing

The bells are ringing
for the Claret and Blue.
The fans are singing,
for the Claret and Blue.
Everybody is knowing,
to the Villa they’re going,
Where the Villa are showing,
We’re the best in the land!
(Best in the land!)

We’re congregating
for the Claret & Blue.
The Holte End’s waiting
for the Claret & Blue.
Everybody is knowing,
to the Villa they’re going.
Where the Villa are showing
We’re the best in the land!
(Best in the land!)

When you’re smiling

When you’re smiling,
When you’re smiling,
The Holte End smiles with you.
When you’re laughing,
When you’re laughing,
The sun comes shining through.
So stop your crying,
You’ll bring on the rain.
So start your smiling,
Be happy again!
So when you’re smiling,
When you’re smiling,
The Holte End smiles with you.
Lala lala la
The Holte End smiles with you.
Lala lala la
The Holte … End … smiles … with … yoooooou!

Do you believe in the Villa?

Do you believe in the Villa?
Oh yes!
Do you believe in the Villa?
Oh yes!
Do you believe in the Villa?
Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.
Villa, Villa, Villa, Villa, Villa
Villa, Villa, Villa, Villa, Villa.

Holte Enders in the sky

As I walked down to Villa Park one dark and dusty day,
I spied a poor old city fan running far away,
I said to that poor city fan, it looks like you must die,
‘Cuz you have seen the glory of …
Holte Enders in the sky

Yippi Aye Eh, Yippi Aye Oh.
Holte Enders in the sky…

We chased him through the terraces, we chased him down the streets,
But little did that city fan know that death must be his fate,
‘Cuz Villa fans rule Birmingham and city fans know why,
‘Cuz they have seen the glory of….
Holte Enders in the sky

Yippi Aye Eh, Yippi Aye Oh.
Holte Enders in the sky…

Birmingham, are you listening

Birmingham, are you listening,
To the song that we’re singing,
We’re walking along,
Singing our song,
Shitting on the City as we goooooo…

If I had wings of an eagle

If I had the wings of an eagle,
and the arse of a crow.
I would fly over St Andrews
and shit on the bastards below.

My old man said ‘be a city fan’,
And I said bollocks you’re a cunt (you’re a cunt),
We hate the Blues and we’re gonna show it,
We hate the Blues and we fucking know it,
With Spinksy and Burchy Alan McInally,
They’re the boys who gonna do us fine,
If you support the blues you’re a Bluenose bastard and you ain’t no friend of mine,
ALL TOGETHER NOW…

Russian submarine

In the town,
Where I was born,
There’s a team,
We all adore,
And there’s a team,
That’s fucking shite,
And they play,
In blue and white.

City’s going down like a Russian submarine,
A Russian submarine,
A Russian submarine,
City’s going down like a Russian submarine,
A Russian submarine,
A Russian submarine.

There was a team called city – they came from Birmingham
they got knocked out the FA cup by non-league Altrincham
and in the final minute the referee blew up
and now the bluenose b*stards are out the FA cup
ahh ha ha ha ha ha
ahh ha ha ha ha ha
ahh ha ha ha ha ha
ahh ha ha ha ha ha

Over land and sea

We all follow the Villa,
Over land and sea – And Walsall!
We all follow the Villa,
On to victory!

You are my Villa,
My only Villa.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You’ll never notice,
How much I love you.
So please don’t take,
My Villa away…

We’ll never die

We’ll never die, we’ll never die!
We’ll never die, we’ll never die!
We’ll never die, we’ll never die!
We’ll keep the Villa flag, flying high
And Aston Villa will never die!

When the Villa go marching in

Oh when the Villa – go marchin’ in,
Oh when the Villa go marchin’ in,
I wanna be in that number,
Oh when the Villa go marching in.
Oh when the Villa,
Oh when the Villla
Go marchin’ in
Go marchin’ in
Oh when the Villa go marching in…

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside,
Oh I do like to be beside the sea,
Oh I do like to be beside the prom, prom, prom,
Where the brass band plays,
Fuck off West Brom,
And Birmingham,
Fuck off West Brom,
And Birmingham….

Hello, Hello

Hello hello,
It’s up the Holte we go,
Hello hello,
It’s up the Holte we go,
And if you are a City fan surrender or you’ll die,
We all follow the Villa…

We shall not be moved

We shall not,
We shall not be moved,
We shall not,
We shall not be moved,
Coz we’re the pride of Birmingham
We shall not be moved…

Wherever you may be

Fight, fight wherever you may be,
We are the boys of the Holte Army,
And we’ll lead you all,
Whoever you may be,
We’ll lead you all to the Holte Army.

When I was just a little boy

When I was just a little boy,
I asked my Mother, what should I be,
Should I be Villa should I be Blues,
Here’s what she said to me.

Get your father’s gun,
And shoot all the City scum,
And support the pride of Brum,
Aston Villa…

Glory, glory Aston Villa

My eyes have seen the glory of the villa win the cup,
Seven times we’ve won it, no one else can catch us up,
We are the boys in claret and blue we are the chosen few
And the villa go marching on,
Glory glory aston villa,
Glory glory aston villa,
Glory glory aston villa
And the villa go marching ON ON ON…

Best team in the land

We’ve got the best team in the land
We’ve got the best team in the land
We’ve got the best team in the land
We’ve got the best team in the land

We’ve got Jimmy Rimmer number 1
We’ve got Jimmy Rimmer number 1
We’ve got Jimmy Rimmer number 1
We’ve got the best team in the land

She wore, she wore, she wore a claret ribbon,
She wore it for the Villa, in the merry month of May,
And when I asked, her why she wore that ribbon,
She said it’s for the Villa, coz we’re going to WEMBLEY!!
WEMBLEY!! WEMBLEY!!
And we’re the famous Aston Villa and we’re going to WEMBLEY!!
WEMBLEY!! WEMBLEY!!

Have you won the European Cup?

Have you won the European Cup,
European Cup,
European Cup…

Have you won the European Cup,
European Cup,
European Cup…

5-1, we beat the scum 5-1

5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1…

5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1…

5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1,
We beat the scum 5-1…

Handball

Handball…
Handball…
Handball!
(every time a Villa player touches the ball after the opponents appealed for handball)

Down with the Baggies

Down with the Baggies,
You’re going down with the Baggies!
Down with the Baggies,
You’re going down with the Baggies!

Same old Cockneys

Same old Cockneys,
Always cheating.
Same old Cockneys,
Always cheating…

Can you hear the Cockneys sing?

Can you hear the Cockneys sing?
Noooo, Noooo…
Can you hear the Cockneys sing?
Noooo, Noooo…
Can you hear the Cockneys sing?
I can’t hear a fucking thing…
Sssssssssssssssssssst.

You’re supposed to be at home

You’re supposed to,
You’re supposed to,
You’re supposed to be at home!
You’re supposed to be at home!

The referee’s a wanker!

The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker,
The referee’s a wanker…
(repeat)

Who are ya?

Who are ya?
Who are ya?
Who are ya?

Shall we sing a song for you?

Shall we sing a,
Shall we sing a,
Shall we sing a song for you,
Shall we sing a song for you…

We forgot that you were here

We forgot,
We forgot,
We forgot that you were here,
We forgot that you were here…

Nigel Spink, rolls the ball to Platty,
he moves it onto Paul McGrath and onto Tony Daly,
Tony Daly down the wing like a torpedo,
puts the ball up in the aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir…
for Tony Cascarino…

The shit are going down, (again!)
The shit are going down, (again!)
And now you’re gonna believe us,
And now you’re gonna believe us,
And now you’re gonna believe us,
The shit are going down… (again!)

There’s a circus in the town

There’s a circus in the town, in the town,
Stevie Bruce is a clown, is a clown,
And Karen Brady is a fucking slaaaaaaaag

St Andrews…

They say that St Andrews is a wonderful place,
I’ve been there myself it’s a fucking disgrace,
They say they have showers but we know the truth,
There’s a hole in the roof where the rain pisses through,
Singing… we hate o’ we hate the City,
We hate o’ we hate the Blues,
We hate o’ we hate the City,
And we love it when the bastards lose,
Lalalalala..

He left Glasgow for the Villa, Cuéllar, Cuéllar
He likes to drink his sangria, Cuéllar, Cuéllar
He’s six foot three with curly hair,
His teeth are fucked but we don’t care,
CARLOS CUELLAR VILLA’S CENTRE HALF…Alternative version